Drabblerific!
by Penguinlet
Summary: Anything and everything that comes out of my loony brain. Usually Zutara, all oneshots and drabbles is there really a difference between the two?. Most likely to updated after any LiveJournal fanfic contests.
1. Midnight Rescue

**A:TLA does not belong to me, yaddayaddawadda. This was my entry for Rashaka's LJ contest with the prompt, "I don't really know you at all, came the whisper. "But I feel as if I do."**

**

* * *

Midnight Rescue**

"I don't really know you at all," came the whisper. "But I feel as if I do."

Her confession was met by stony silence, and for a moment Katara thought he hadn't heard. Then the frightening face turned to her again and he said lowly, "Forget it. Stay focused. We need to get out of here."

"Oh. Right," she muttered. "Focused."

"Shh!"

The heavy footsteps of Azula's guards tromped by the shrubbery in which the two were hidden. Katara breathed out a sigh of relief and started to stand up. A sudden yank from her rescuer dropped her back on her rear and a warm hand clapped over her mouth to keep her from crying out in surprise and pain. "Not yet," he breathed into her ear.

A final pair of red booted feet came silently into view. Katara marveled at how he had even heard. She traced the boots up, trying to see to whom they belonged. A sullen looking girl with an odd hairstyle stood before them. Katara recognized her as the one who had thrown the knives and darts at her in Omashu.

As if she had felt Katara's gaze, the girl turned and glared directly at their hiding spot. Her right hand flexed wickedly, and Katara shuddered at the thought of the many barbed points piercing her soft flesh.

Beside her, Katara could feel his sinewy muscles tense up. He gripped his two broadswords tightly, ready to attack. "Easy," he breathed into her ear.

"Mai!" There was no mistaking the Fire Princess's haughty tone, even from a distance. "Come here."

The girl, Mai, took one last look at the shadows of the bushes, her disdainful gaze lingering. Then she glided away, as silently as she had come.

Katara felt him relax a little. "Let's go," he hissed.

They slunk into the dark forest, hearts pounding in tandem every step of the way. Too soon however, Katara stumbled and fell – she had held out as long as she could, but the combination of brutal torture and soporific drugs had left her weak. She lay on the leaf-strewn ground, the world seeming to spin above her.

The blue and white mask, with its horrible empty eyes and leering mouth, suddenly filled her vision. "Get up."

"I'm sorry. I-I just can't…I mean, just give me a second."

He towered over her, silent, and for a moment she feared he would leave her. Then he bent and slid his arms under her legs, under her neck, cradling her. He picked her up with ease and began to move again. Surprisingly, she felt perfectly comfortable to be nestled up against his hard chest. She was safe; she could rest. The soft tugs of the drugs became an insistent pull, and finally she let herself be taken into the fuzzy realm of sleep.

When Katara awoke, she was back in her sleeping bag at the campsite. A blanket cushioned her head and her various wounds had been cleaned and bandaged. Sitting up, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes just as a dirty and dejected Sokka stumbled out of the forest, spotted her, and came dashing over to give her a bone-crushing embrace, Aang not far behind.

As she gasped for air under the boys' hugs, she couldn't help but think of the strong arms that had been wrapped protectively around her hours earlier.

_I don't really know you at all, but that doesn't make me any less grateful._


	2. Home Away From Home

**A:TLA is not owned by me, etcetera, etcetera. Also done for the Rashaka LJ contest but self-disqualified because it's not fair to enter two submissions. **

**Home Away From Home**

"Uh…so…d'you…that is, um…"

"What are you _talking_ about, you moron?"

Zuko took a deep breath. Was there a right way to say this?

Katara waited patiently. It's not like they were able to go anywhere soon, any ways. Why was he stuttering like a lunatic? Weren't princes supposed to be suave and charming?

"What I mean to…I meant, what I…oh, forget it! You would never understand. I'll just stay on my end and leave you alone."

He turned his back on her and sat, sulking in embarrassment and misery. Many minutes passed. Zuko felt extra movement and knew she was crawling towards her from the way the tiny dinghy shifted with her weight. He hunkered down even more, hoping that if he stayed still enough, she wouldn't see him and would go away. A delicate hand perched neatly on his shoulder.

"That is, you meant to say: 'Do you want to see what it's like to be with a Fire Prince? Do you want to pass the endless stretch of time waiting for rescue by getting it on? _Do you want me to take you hard and without mercy?_' Is that it?" her sultry voice was like nothing he had ever heard or expected to hear coming out of the Waterbender's mouth.

Stunned, he turned around and came within inches of her face, big eyes as blue as the ocean all around them. He could find no trace of joking in those eyes. A lump rose in his throat and he wished he had some water to gulp it down. "Um," he began, panicking.

Katara laughed heartily, throwing her head back, the sound ringing across the wide expanse of water like the peals of bells. When she finally wiped the tears from her face, Zuko saw that they were shining with mirth. "Ha! Oh…ho ho! Hee! You should've seen the look on your face! Oh man! Hahaha!"

He sat, completely at a loss of words. Suddenly, a grin slipped across his face. "So that's how you want to play it, Water peasant?"

Zuko lunged for Katara, pinning her roughly against the bottom of the raft by the wrists, his larger male body holding her delicate female frame down. She shrieked and struggled, giggling madly. "Oh no!" she cried coquettishly. "What's a poor, defenseless girl like me to do with such a _big_ man on top of her? Oh that's right! _Punish him!_"

A snakelike strand of water rose from the water and whipped towards Zuko from behind, stinging him smartly right in the small of his back. "Ow! Oh, you're going to get it!"

Shrieks of laughter filled the air and the small dinghy rocked from time to time in their play. When the pair finally stopped giggling and the boat finally stilled, Zuko looked up at the girl straddling his lap, her profile silhouetted against the sun. Somehow in the course of events, they had switched positions. Zuko thought he was rather okay with that. He examined her brilliant cerulean eyes, her prominent cheekbones flushed with heat, her lush pink lips. A sensation he had not felt for years – ages – twanged in his core.

Katara panted slightly, sweat beading on her brow. She gazed at the boy underneath her strong thighs and felt something stirring deep within her, something strange. She reached out with one finger and traced the scar on Zuko's face, trailing her hand from his temple to his cheek, and down to rest on his lips.

He didn't know what quite came over him, but he kissed the fingertip lightly and then, surprised by his own bravado, slipped it gently into his warm mouth. She sighed and arched her back, causing his hips to buck involuntarily against her.

Taking the finger out of his mouth, Zuko sat up, still holding Katara in his lap. Hesitantly, nervously, he slid his hand into her hair, which had come undone during the mock struggle. Her arms somehow found their way to his neck, which they promptly wound around. Zuko couldn't believe it, but he felt himself pulling her towards him, closer and closer.

Their eyes closed and they leaned in.

* * *

They cuddled up together afterwards, her body draped languidly over his. While they were together, they did not say a word, but Zuko felt it was now appropriate to break the voluntary silence. 

"I don't really know you at all," came the whisper. "But it feels like home when I'm inside of you."


	3. I'm Not So Cold Anymore

**I'm Not So Cold Anymore**

Usually, Katara liked the rain. She liked the feeling of the water falling from the heavens, drip-dropping and plip-plopping onto her closed eyelids, outstretched tongue, upturned face. The rain felt clean, fresh, bringing the promise of freedom and life. Usually, Katara liked the rain.

Not today though.

Icy sheets whipped through the air as the wind howled angrily. This was very different from the soothing, soft showers back at home. Instead of the general sense of tranquility and optimism that Katara was accustomed to, this rainstorm seemed bent, hell or high water, on viciously obliterating everything in existence, including her and her hard-won groceries.

Katara shivered and cinched her damp windbreaker tighter around her quivering body. She wedged herself further underneath the eave of the bus stop, but the wind blew the freezing wetness every which way, effectively soaking her regardless. Two sodden paper sacks lay by her drenched running shoes. Katara glared at them, silently cursing the rudimentary human necessity to eat, and then turned her sullen gaze back to the street, squinting through the wind and water, wishing the bus would just hurry up and come already.

The minutes dragged on. The bus was late. Again. Seriously, the buses here at school were as undependable as Aang's pet flying squirrel. Where he found it Katara would never know.

The sky began to grow dark as night settled in, and the cars zipping by turned on their headlamps, one by one. It got colder. Katara was shuddering violently now, her fingers so numb they didn't seem to exist. Why, oh why, hadn't she taken Sokka up on his offer to drive her to the market?

Images of her brother in his precious pavement-scraping, bass-thumping, tail-finned monstrosity came to mind. "Ladieeeeeees, check it!" The mental manifestation of Sokka flashed his patented grin through the rolled-down tinted window, one eyebrow cocked coyly above his stunner shades.

Ah. That's why. Yes, Katara would rather take her chances out in the cruel world, thank you.

One of the sacks, liquefied by the perpetual torrent, split along the side. Apples, mangoes, and peaches went rolling downhill, towards the street. "Damn!" Katara cried, lunging for the escaping fruit.

She was able to recover most of her food before it reached the muddy gutter, but a couple of apples managed to land there. Grumbling and arms laden with slippery fruit, Katara gingerly reached down to pick up the last two fugitives.

A black sedan rushed by, sending a bone-chilling wave of dirty water over her.

"HEY!" The outrage was too much to bear. "JERK! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU? Are you too STUPID to drive in the street, or do you just really like splashing crap all over people!"

The car screeched to a halt, white lights on its rear flared to life above the glowing red ones, and with a whir backed up until the passenger's side window was level with Katara's dripping snarl. She couldn't see past the silvery reflection of the glass, but she didn't flinch, only rearranged her face into an even more menacing appearance. Let the moron argue with her. She _wanted_ to fight.

The window rolled down, and Zuko's face came into view.

"Oh," Katara fluttered.

Zuko wore an expression of mingled trepidation and bewilderment, as only he could manage. "Katara? What are you doing here? School's about three miles away!"

She lifted her armful of fruit. "Scrounging," she said lamely.

"Well, it's almost dark, and it's freezing out here! Were you planning on eating in the storm?" Zuko asked.

Limply, Katara said, "No, but I guess the bus decided it didn't want to come this way today. I've been here since five."

"Where's your brother then? I thought he had a car."

Katara winced. "Yeah, but knowing him, he's probably cruising around downtown somewhere with that airhead gymnast in shotgun and two more girls in the back. Not my scene."

"Ah," Zuko nodded thoughtfully. "Very understandable. Well then, get in."

He reached over and opened the passenger door. Katara lost no time in pouring her groceries into the car and collapsing in the seat. "Thanks," she mumbled through stiff lips.

She shut the door and Zuko stepped on the gas. The car hummed smoothly along while Katara squeegeed the water out of her hair. Zuko wordlessly turned up the heater.

Katara sighed as her body slowly thawed in the haven of Zuko's car. The wipers swished back and forth in a hypnotic rhythm, blending with the sounds of upbeat jazz coming from the stereo system. The strain of sitting for an hour in the cold set in, and Katara's eyelids drooped. It was so warm. So warm, and so nice. Like Zuko, she thought faintly.

She nodded once, twice, and dozed off.

Zuko, weaving deftly through the streets, cast a sidelong glance at his childhood friend. "You're welcome," he murmured.

* * *

**A/N:** I finally succumbed to the siren call of Irrel's fantastic AU story. While in the Friday night Zutara chat, we touched upon the topic of who would hypothetically own what car, and settled on Sokka in a rice rocket and Zuko in something black and sensible, like a nice Camry or something. Toph, we decided, would drive a bigass SUV, like a Hummer or something, and mow down everyone and everything in her path. That is, you know, if she could see. Aww. 


	4. Lips of an Angel

**A/N: **The lyrics that inspired this story come from Hinder's "Lips of an Angel." I'm under the impression it's pretty popular on the radio right now. This is a story from Irrel's AU, and is set in the college era of the timeline. And of course, I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender and its characters, and The AU is solely of Irrel's creation.

* * *

Lips of an Angel

_Deedly-deedly-deedly-dee! Deedly-deedly-deedly-dee!_

"Fuck!" Zuko slammed his hand down on the offending cell phone, muffling its insistent tweedling.

He stole a look to his side. Good. The damn phone hadn't woken Jin. God, she could sleep through a stampede. "This had better be good," he rumbled at the phone clutched in his fist, still ringing. "It's fucking finals week."

Zuko slid out of bed and hustled on tiptoe to the hallway. He stole a glance at the glowing screen. "Hmm," he murmured. "Katara."

"Zuko?" She quavered, tinny and hollow as voice is wont to be when filtered through electronics. "Zuko, it's me."

"Yeah. Why are you calling me so late?"

"I'm so sorry. I really am. I-I don't...oh god, I'm so stupid. I'm sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep."

Zuko huffed. "You woke me up to tell me to go back to sleep? C'mon. I'm awake and I'll be damned if I don't hear you out and fail Guiterrez's exam tomorrow. Now what's wrong?"

She whimpered. "Oh...oh god."

Zuko immediately softened. "Katara," he said, "What's going on? Why are you crying? Is everything okay?"

He got a squeak and some sobs in response. "Katara," he tried again gently. "It's all right. I'm not angry. I just have to be quiet. Jin's sleeping but I can talk as long as you need to. Now tell me what's going on."

Katara sniffed. "It's just...oh you're going to think I'm such an idiot. But...but I miss you."

It was as if she had jabbed him with a cattle prod. "Whuh?"

She managed a shaky laugh. "Or maybe you're the idiot," she teased. Her tone sobered up again. "That was all. I just missed you."

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. "Does Jet know you're calling me? You know the last time he saw us talking, he nearly knocked me out with a roundhouse."

"No, he's out drinking with his stupid Freedom Fighters again. God, could he have picked a dorkier name for such a bunch of weirdos?"

"Seriously. Okay, I just don't want to start a fight. Anyways, back to the original topic: what, why, how, when...huh?"

A sigh. "I dunno. It's just...maybe I'm just PMS-ing extra badly or something, but it's been kinda overwhelming. We're best friends and then you disappear and never call or write for years, and suddenly I sit down across from you in a college Spanish class. It's weird, y'know? And I know we can't make up for all the time and stuff lost, but seeing you...I just miss how it used to be and I wonder how it could've been, you know?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah."

"I guess I just never really got over you," she said flatly.

Zuko could hear every tick of the kitchen clock as his dumbfounded brain tried to come up with an intelligent response. How had she said in one breath what he had been trying to formulate into a vague cloud of a concept for the last fifteen weeks? He missed her too.

"Zuko?"

The way she said his name made his knees weak. "Yeah, sorry, hi."

"I'm sorry. It's a lot to dump on you in the middle of the night. Something just broke inside and I had to tell you. I'll leave you alone now." Katara hung up.

Zuko sat in the dark of the kitchen. He set the phone down on the table. Slowly, his head lowered forward until it landed with a thunk next to his phone. Staring at a coffee stain on the formica, he thought back to a time when they didn't have to deal with anything but the immense freedom of childhood. A time unmarred by years of loneliness, anger, shame, or burn marks. The echo of her laughter in his memory and the way she had said his name – _Zuko – _bore into him. Oh god. He missed her too.

He sat back up and hit a button on the phone. The line rang once, twice. "Hey, it's my turn," he said.

"Hi."

"I miss you too."

Silence.

Zuko closed his eyes. "Katara, I'm sorry I never wrote back. I'm sorry I never called, that I never visited. God knows I wanted to. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. But I never forgot you. Not once. Uncle took me to therapy and you know why I went? So I could finally answer your letters. But oh fuck, fuck fuck fuck, I guess I was just too fucked up to ever face the music and reply. And oh Katara, I'm so sorry. I've been wondering all semester how to tell you all this. Forgive me."

"I already did, years ago," she replied.

A smile crept to Zuko's face, despite himself. "Really?"

"Yes."

The clock ticked another round.

"Uh, okay then," Zuko said, suddenly feeling horribly vulnerable and awkward. "I'll uh, see you in class for that ah, final...that I'm screwed for...tomorrow."

"Zuko." Her voice was strong now, strong and confident. "Come over."

"What, now? Why-wha-no! I can't...what...but Jin!" he spluttered.

"So what? What about Jet?"

"Exactly!"

"That was sarcasm, Zuko. So what about Jin? So what about Jet? You and I both know that sooner or later, we're going to hurt them. You and I both know that sooner or later..." her voice trailed off.

"Katara! No, I can't possibly do that to her! Do you know what she's done for me?" Zuko protested.

"And Jet was there for me when you weren't. Yeah. But you know what, Zuko? You _are_ here now. You're here and I'm here and we can make things right again. We owe it to ourselves to finally be happy."

Zuko gritted his teeth. This was nonsense! And yet, she was infuriatingly persuasive. Didn't it make sense? Didn't he finally deserve this happiness? No. No, he was in a committed relationship. No no no.

But God, he did want to go to her.

"I'm sorry," he finally croaked.

Katara sighed. "Still the noble one. Ever so self controlled. Zuko, you're still the same where it counts. Well, good. Because if you had come over, I'd have clocked you harder than Jet ever would have."

"WHAT?" Zuko hissed. "That was all...what?!"

She laughed, a sound that hit home once again. "Sorry. It was mean, I know. But I needed to know if you were worth all that lost time. And you are. You're still you, and that's all I ever need. Hey, calling you in the dead of the night makes me feel a lot better. I'll see you tomorrow."

There was a click, and all he was left with was her laughter ringing in his ears.

Zuko thought his head was going to explode.


End file.
